


You Only Need The Light When It's Burning Low

by southspinner



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, I'm sleep deprived and abusing the fuck out of the Rivetra tag on tumblr, Pointless Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 16:07:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1393885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/southspinner/pseuds/southspinner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing about Petra is that she's got this way of crawling under your skin with her sunshine smiles and spring-rain laugh, making you need her for a long time before you ever realize that you do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Only Need The Light When It's Burning Low

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Passenger's "Let Her Go." Yeah, I don't really know what this is. It started out as a thing I wrote for an RP, and it grew into something that ripped my heart into tiny, tiny pieces. You mix Levi and panic disorders and losing people he cares about and you get awful, awful pains in your soul. Enjoy.

 

_But you only need the light when it's burning low_   
_Only miss the sun when it starts to snow_   
_Only know you love her when you let her go_

The thing with Petra is that she creeps up on you.  
  
It's one of the reasons that I jot her name down as I watch her go through the maneuvers on the obstacle course. There's finesse and skill in her movements, yes, but it's the near-silence that reaches out and grabs my attention as she carves down one mock Titan after another, perfect execution and a stealth that whispers certain death to any opponents. My face impassive, I let my clipboard drift downwards and lean over to Erwin, nodding at the streak of red hair and pale skin flying around the course. "I want that one."  
  
I almost don't notice her when she comes trotting over at the request of her Commandant, her movements soundless and her presence only demanding attention when she snaps to an immaculate salute. "You wanted to see me, sir?"  
  
"No, I did," I hum boredly, glancing down at my clipboard. "Petra Ral?"  
  
Honey-colored eyes widen slightly, her posture faltering the slightest bit. Star-struck. Cute. "O-oh. Captain Levi, I..."  
  
"What's wrong? Am I shorter than the stories made you think?" She looks absolutely mortified at that, blushing and stammering out denials. I roll my eyes skyward and lean against the fencepost. "Sorry, shitty joke. I was watching your squad train today. How would you like a promotion to Special Ops under my command, Ral?"  
  
Petra's jaw gapes open a little, a pink flush painting her cheekbones. "I... Well, I'm sure there are people more deserving..."  
  
"Your maneuvers were not only impeccably executed, they were almost completely silent," I observe, reading in a flat monotone from the notes on my clipboard. "A Titan wouldn't even hear you coming. We could use a skill set like that on the Elite Squad. But if you don't want the job..."  
  
"No, no, of course I want it!" She stammers hurriedly, still standing at attention with determination suddenly painting her features.  
  
"Then at ease, soldier," I reply, the slightest hint of a smile pulling at the corners of my mouth as I extend my hand in her direction. "And welcome to Special Ops."  
  
I ignore the electricity that sparks up my arm when her hand touches mine. Blame it on static shock.

_Only know you've been high when you're feeling low_   
_Only hate the road when you're missing home_   
_Only know you love her when you let her go_

The thing about Petra is that she creeps up on you.

Two years later and I still can't pin her down, can't trace her whispered movements or her soft mannerisms until she's right behind me, can't--  
  
"Captain?"  
  
"Fucking hell, Petra!" I jump slightly, pressing a hand to my chest and looking up from the dancing kaleidoscope of the fire. Graveyard Watch is always the loneliest, the time when everyone else is bound to be asleep, and her voice brought my trained instincts to life, a hand darting down to one of the blades at my hip. Grumbling irritably, I slide it back into its sheath, watching her move around the fire's edge. "You should be asleep."  
  
"I... I couldn't. After what happened in that abandoned city today..." she trails off, folding her petite frame beside mine on the fallen log I've been using as a bench, hands wringing in her lap. "We lost so many. All that blood... I'm sorry, I know I should be tougher than this. I'm weak, I'm--"  
  
"I don't pick weaklings, Ral." I cut her off, placing a finger beneath her chin and tilting her head up until her eyes meet mine, molten caramel, firelit amber. "It's not a weakness to be afraid. True strength is being afraid and fighting anyway."  
  
Her brows furrow into a contemplative arc, a full lower lip drawn beneath her teeth. "But you're not scared of anything."  
  
"That's bullshit." My voice is almost too harsh, a gravel in it that scrapes conviction on my lips as the words tumble over them. "There are things out there that terrify me. Things like what happened today. Needless death. Losing my squad."  
  
A long silence. "Losing you."  
  
The thing about Petra is that she's got this way of crawling under your skin with her sunshine smiles and spring-rain laugh, making you need her for a long time before you ever realize that you do.  
  
"Captain..." she starts, but never gets to finish her half-formed idea in the wake of my lips gently brushing hers, a second that stretches into eternity.  
  
"My name is Levi," I say softly, turning back to the fire and reaching down to grab her hand. "And you don't have to be scared. I'll always be here to protect you."

_Staring at the ceiling in the dark_   
_Same old empty feeling in your heart_   
_'Cause love comes slow and it goes so fast_

The thing about Petra is that she creeps up on you.

She gets into your soul and sets up shop there, curls in the hollow of your chest for years, and you never notice it until you wake up teary and shaking in the dead of night with her arms looped around your waist, her lips pressing sweet nothings into the shell of your ear.  
  
After the first few nights she spent in my bed, Petra got used to the nightmares. She never asked, never pushed, just offered her whispers and the softness of her skin like some sort of supplication, never mentioned it outside the confines of the walls of my room. Some part of me adores her for that, for helping me keep up a facsimile of strength even though two nights out of three I wake up to sobs lodged in my throat and a nameless fear paralyzing my lungs. They say that you can send a soldier to war, but he never comes home. There's always a battlefield in my dreams.  
  
"Are you all right now?" She whispers when I finally manage to roll over, the moonlight slanting in through the window painting a bluish hue across her skin. Silence. "Levi?"  
  
"I'm fine," I lie, tracing my fingers across the smooth curve of her shoulder, painting nonsensical patterns across the musculature of her back and the serpentine curl of her spine. My lips press against her forehead, a soft exhalation ruffling the already-messy ginger strands of her hair. "Go back to sleep, Petra."  
  
She frowns like she doesn't believe me (I can lie to anyone but her), rolling over on top of me, skin on skin, sweat-damp and oddly comforting for how messy the whole affair of physical intimacy is. Delicate hands cradle my jaw, forcing me to look at her until something in her eyes accepts that I'm at least all right enough to refrain from retreating back into the hell inside my head.  
  
"I love you," she says.  
  
"You're beautiful," I say, because I've never really been sure what love is. If and when I tell her, I want to be certain of it. "Now go to sleep. We have to be up before Eren tomorrow so we can brief him on the expedition."  
  
Sighing resignedly, she flops back over on her side and lets me curl around her, a palm pressed to the plane of her abdomen. "Sometimes I feel like you'll always be out of reach, Levi."  
  
"Bullshit." A gentle whisper, pressed to the humid patch of skin behind her ear with something that could be tenderness if it wasn't coming from me. "I'm right here. Always will be."  
  
"Then why are you so afraid of being with me?"  
  
Because I don't want to hurt you.  
  
"We'll talk about it when we get back from the expedition," I sigh, burying my face in the crook of her neck. "I promise. Now sleep."  
  
I watch her for a long time after her dreams claim her, memorizing the way her eyes flutter beneath the lids as she spirals deeper into unconsciousness. It never occurs to me why I feel the need to ingrain every cell of her into my soul, the sound of her even breaths and the delicate scent of lilac and vanilla clinging to her hair beneath the earthy smell of sweat.  
  
When I finally fall back asleep, I dream of her, and that's absolutely fine with me.

_Well you see her when you fall asleep_   
_But never to touch and never to keep_   
_'Cause you loved her too much and you dive too deep_

  
The thing about Petra is that she crept up on me.  
  
She sank into the marrow of my bones and made my ribcage her castle, claimed my heart for a throne and left me none the wiser. It's not until I'm staring down at her broken body that I even realize the hold she had over me at all.  
  
Erwin has the good graces to usher the bystanders away, give me a few moments in relative silence, kneeling in the dirt beside a bloody husk whose lips will never wrap around the syllables of my name again, who will never again smile or laugh or light me up from the inside, chase away the darkest parts of me with gentle hands and a steadfast heart.  
  
I'd made a promise once that I'd always be there, and when it mattered, I wasn't.  
  
"I'm so sorry," I murmur, brushing my thumb over the shattered ridge of a once-defined cheekbone. Wrong, all wrong. Petra is never this cold; she's always warm like there's a sunrise beneath her skin. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."  
  
We're a long way from safety and I'm half tempted to say that I don't _care,_ to head off in the opposite direction and chase her soul somewhere out in the trees. But the mission is still on, and I at least owe it to her to be the man she thought I was.  
  
True strength is being afraid, being broken, being ripped apart at the seams and fighting anyway.  
  
Maybe it's better this way, I muse, pulling a penknife from my jacket and cutting the Wings of Freedom away from her breast pocket, tucking the patch next to my heart. Petra always deserved better but was always too stubborn to seek it. Maybe in the next life, she'll find someone who can give her everything. Someone who will cling to the glow she radiates and revolve around her like their own personal sun, who will hold her at night through her bad dreams instead of the the other way around. Someone who will love her.  
  
The way I do. The way I realize too-late that I always have.  
  
When I finally manage to fall asleep three days later, I dream of her. I wake up screaming.

 _But you only need the light when it's burning low_  
 _Only miss the sun when it starts to snow  
_ _Only know you love her when you let her go_


End file.
